Follow Me
by Siarc
Summary: Two pairs of eyes met, and there was no fear between them. Fem!Kisa/Fem!Ita.


Holy geez. So this was a story that I had written to be a longer story with CHAPTERS, but my lazy ass turned around and was like, _no_. So I just made it one of those split stories, so when you see splits, think of it as a new chapter, okay?

I didn't realize how hard it would be to write BOTH of them as women. One being a chick was okay, but both... holy macaroni.

But this was my first story with both of them as women and I LOVED writing it, and there will be more in the future. This was a story just to get my bearings.

And it's fawking long so be prepared. And by the way I didn't even proofread this. Well I did along the way, but I died when I realized the length and yeah. So expect some errors.

WARNINGS: Fem!Kisame/Fem!Itachi (and since they are both female, some of you might interpret them as OOC. Just know, as usual, that I tried hard to keep them as in character as possible, but I'm not perfect), sexual content (nothing hardcore), gorey images, fight sequences, character death... uh. I think that's it.

ENJOY.

* * *

This was a first, the Leader had told them, in a somehow proud voice.

Eyes looked on, curious and interested. Bloodthirsty.

But two pairs of eyes met, and there was no fear between them. Round, golden marbles glistening against firelight. Vermillion orbs spun against a frame of thick black eyelashes.

The first pairing of kunoichi in Akatsuki, and the Leader foresaw that they would easily be the most powerful pair in their organization, if they could keep their bloodthirsty hands to themselves. The blue-gray woman grinned oddly at that. How many partners had she killed before this? All men, all weaklings. And they had finally gotten to the point where they needed to find her a _truly_ good match, and her thing for crushing men and their egos would not work so well.

So here was Itachi, young and beautiful and Kisame's polar opposite. Except the female part.

"Pretty little thing," Kisame grinned, resting a hand on her own hip, her long ponytail swaying against Samehada, "Uchiha Itachi, it's a pleasure."

And the girl didn't open her mouth. Simply gazed at the much bigger woman before her with cold eyes. This fact alone had made Kisame smile wide.

"Yeah. You and I will get along just _fine_."

* * *

"You can't handle it?"

Kisame sneered at her partner over her shoulder. Bodies lay splattered across the ground, ripped apart by the now gurgling and pleasantly growling Samehada she held atop her shoulder.

"I prefer handling things quickly," Itachi said, in a thin tone. "And a little less messy."

"Ha!"

A blue-gray foot met a body, the only one still mostly intact. She kicked it over, gazing at the man and his fluffy beard.

"That's no way to handle opponents," deep blue hair swaying with the turn, footsteps, "You're not much fun."

No reply, and that was even less fun. But she walked ahead. This partner didn't try to be a meatball in front of her. She didn't even care to take backseat right now, but Kisame could tell Itachi's intelligence was amazing for her age. Her wit was incredible, and her talents endless.

But this little girl still had a lot of respect to earn, and Kisame wasn't someone who trusted or believed in people easily.

And already she was proving to be a stickler. Where was the bloodlust? She wanted to bring it out in the girl. It would be a rush to see that little girl's beautiful eyes ignite with the fires of battle.

Kisame had already figured out the problem with their little relationship here – If Itachi felt threatened, she could turn her genjutsu easily on Kisame, who had problems avoiding the girl's eyes.

They were lovely.

Missions took no time at all at this girl's side. She was a master at crafting plans. Executing them was easy, as they made a good pair. Kisame's brawn partnered with Itachi brain. It was what their partnership was turning into within the weeks, and Kisame wondered if that was even remotely _okay_.

She talked a lot to her partner, not expecting answers after a while. How long had it been since she could just blabber?

The girl just looked forward blankly, occasionally passing Kisame a glance in recognition, which was enough for her.

The usual partner stuff. Kisame liked having a partner that could care for themselves. She didn't have to play babysitter at all, which was a relief because the blue-gray woman was horrible with children.

Their first problem arose when an opponent had snapped Kisame's leg during a mission. It was going well, target in sight, cornered, but the bastard had slipped around Itachi's genjutsu with the help of a hidden companion and caught Kisame off guard.

And supporting herself on Samehada the rest of the way back to town, a good five hour walk, was not an option. Of course, this made her upset. Not only would they be camping again, as Itachi was a stickler with their money, but she was in a lot of pain.

_A fucking lot_.

"Hold still," Itachi hissed, pushing Kisame back down onto the ground by the shoulder. "I know how to set it, but you need to stay still."

Not like her bone was sticking out of her leg or anything.

"You better know what the fuck you're doing," Kisame snarled, grabbing handfuls of dirt and rock.

A glare was shot her way. And she shot it right back. And in that moment where their eyes met, she heard a snap and pop and roared with the pain, arching her back. She felt the cool drip of blood, and Itachi was making her lift her leg up so she could wrap it, hiking her pant leg all the way up to her hip.

"You little bitch," Kisame winced as Itachi set her leg back down on the ground. "That hurt, that really huuurt…"

"Stop whining," Itachi shot at her, "It's not like I can carry you. You're going to have to walk on it tomorrow."

Oh beautiful. That only added to the rage. So as Kisame lay in the dirt, cursing and spitting, Itachi sat by her side calmly. Eerily calm.

After a while, the pain dulled, since she hadn't moved much. She closed her eyes in exhaustion. She was good at wearing herself out.

She opened her eyes to look up at the star-ridden sky, then looked a little to her side to see bright red orbs.

"You really gotta stare at me like that?" she half grinned to her young partner. "It's a little unnerving, knowing what those eyes can do."

Itachi raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

"That's a stupid question." Kisame said, half snarling, "Why would you even ask?"

"My Sharingan aren't activated."

A lithe, pretty hand was on her forehead. And the red orbs she could see widened.

"Uhm…" Itachi stood up and went over to their supplies, rummaging around. They had but a small medical kit, but it had nothing besides items that could wrap a wound. Itachi hissed, gazing around.

She disappeared from view, and Kisame didn't question it. She was probably burning up and delirious. That'd explain her loose mouth (if her personality didn't already). Itachi returned a few minutes later, pressing a piece of wet cloth to her forehead.

And again she was sitting right by her side.

"Sleep," she said after a few moments of their tangled staring match.

"You used your jutsu too much today, you might pass out." Kisame points a finger, but Itachi forces the hand back to the ground.

"I'll be fine."

Hard to argue that. Her eyes grew blurry staring up at the stars, and the feel of a warm hand pressed to her arm helped ease her into a fitful sleep.

Halfway through the night, Kisame felt dizzy, staring up at the swirling stars. Itachi sat by her side still, and her eyes were right on her when she moved.

"What is it?" Itachi asks, her voice a high pitch that Kisame hadn't realized before. How stupidly cute.

She wanted to reply, but instead let out a little burp, giving her a sour face. She felt like throwing up any minute, but she didn't want to at all. Getting sick like this in the care of a little girl.

But that wound, it made no sense. Why was she getting so sick over a snapped leg? It wasn't infected, Itachi had said.

She felt her heart thud hard in her chest. She gasped and Itachi's eyes widened.

"Something's…" she said breathlessy to her very childish looking partner, "Something's not… right."

Itachi stood up, gazing around the area. Kisame's breaths quickened, and she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to calm her scared heart.

The Uchiha girl was doing something, but Kisame couldn't focus. She reached a hand up and gripped her chest, moving slightly, but whimpering when her leg throbbed with intense pain.

And then Itachi's hands were on hers, and in a matter of a minute, she was slung over the girl's back and shoulder. This girl was strong than she had thought.

And then the wind was in her hair, flowing across her face. She remembered taking in a deep breath, inhaling Itachi's sweet, flowery scent, before darkness took hold of her.

When she opened her eyes next, glowing green-yellow orbs stared back at her. Blue bangs hung in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, but then squinted her eyes at the bright light in her face.

"Open your eyes," Kakuzu's voice drummed in her aching head. She opened them slowly, with a growl as protest. The light went from one light to another, then it was gone, leaving little spots in Kisame's vision.

Then Itachi was standing over her, with that usual blank face. But she saw the lightest tinges of concern in her face.

"Hey, sup," Kisame grinned at her, and she was sure she looked pretty stupid doing it. But the concern disappeared from the girl's face.

"You gave us all a scare," Kakuzu said, shaking his head, and waving something around in his hand. "You recognize this?"

He waved it closer to her face. A tiny little blade, with some dried blood on it.

"Yeh," Kisame narrowed her eyes, arching her back slightly. Her body felt limp and weak, "Pulled it outta my arm."

"Poison."

Oh. Well. Duh.

The next few days were spent drifting in and out of sleep. One day she sat up slowly, gazing at herself. Her leg was bound tightly.

And then there was that hand on her arm again.

"I guess I owe you a thanks, don't I?" Kisame admits bashfulness, and doesn't want to look at her much younger partner.

"No," this is what forces her to look at the other girl, "I simply did what you would have done."

They exchange looks. Kisame grins, toothily.

"Trying to copy me now, eh?"

"It worked."

* * *

Their partnership had been solidified. Unstoppable, they had raged on for a full five years. And indeed, they had been proven the strongest pair in many ways.

As Itachi blossomed into an adult, Kisame could only feel older and older. In one way it sucked, but in another it was nice. Her hair had only grown longer since then.

So long that brushing it was getting to be a damn pain.

It was down to the back of her thighs now, when it was up in it's high ponytail, which it was most of the time. Since Kisame was a towering woman of six feet and four inches, that was definitely a lot of hair.

That hair was really the only thing she cared about when it came to her appearance. The rest of her was so ugly – her bluish-gray skin, her claws-for-nails, her sharpened teeth (by tradition only), her gills, and her beady little eyes. So she cherished this one thing, this one thing that gave her something to be proud of about herself.

But it wasn't uncommon for her to complain about having to brush the shit. Sitting on her bed in their hotel room (it had taken a millennia to convince Itachi), her long hair pooled around her, she worked hard to brush it out. Itachi returned from her shower, and of course Kisame began grumbling about her hair.

"If I didn't love this shit so much I'd chop it all off. You think I'd look good bald?"

A visible eye roll from her partner. "If you don't like it, cut it. Simple."

"It's just a pain. Tangles like a bitch. Washing it is a bitch. But it looks so _nice_."

The only thing that looks nice about her, she thought ruefully.

Itachi proceeded to open a book, reading carefully from the pages as Kisame continued to brush, deciding silence would be okay for now.

But after a while, Itachi set the book down. Kisame watched her partner move one way across the room, then another, in search. She found her bag, and pulled her own hairbrush from it.

"I'll help you."

Kisame could have sworn her jaw dropped.

They normally didn't get closer than half an arm's reach, and that was on a good day. And now she was offering to assist in the care of the one thing Kisame probably cared most about in her world right now.

"Why the sudden interest?" Kisame asked as Itachi came to her side, carefully moving Kisame's stray hair out of the way before sitting by her side.

"No interest. Just help."

Itachi's slender, long fingers brushed behind her right ear, taking up a section of hair and ran her brush through it slowly, as though testing to see her blue-gray partner's reaction. When there was none other than an interested look, she continued, working her way down the section of hair.

"Thanks," Kisame offered a small, closed-mouth smile, then put her focus on the section she had been working on.

It was a peaceful time. Kisame didn't even feel like talking much. She was content with the noises of the brushing, with Itachi's light touches to her scalp as she took up a new section of hair. The gentle tug of the brush on tangles.

When it was done, Kisame felt relieved. Normally a comb-through did the job, but she had to take time to brush it thoroughly every so often.

She set the brush aside, but Itachi's hands were on her neck again, and she had all of Kisame's hair bundled in her hands.

"Do you mind?" she asked, and Kisame shrugged, a slightly dopey look on her face.

"'Just help' my ass." A grin, and a small glare in return.

She couldn't believe the patience. It had taken half an hour to brush, and here Itachi was willing to take another half hour to _french braid_ her hair. She worked from the front of Kisame's head back, making sure to leave some bangs in her eyes, as Kisame also didn't like her forehead (Itachi's knowledge of this, of course, had come from the constant complaining about physical appearance. Kisame loved to talk.)

But the tugging on her hair, and the fingers, and small breaths she felt on her back, gave Kisame a weird sensation.

She had never let anybody do this, of course. But she felt true companionship with her partner. Trust.

She let herself smile and laugh a little, and Itachi didn't question it.

"Having fun back there?" she asked, halfway in.

"Your hair is lovely," was the stale but genuine statement that was returned. It made Kisame puff up a little, and shut up too.

She turned and looked and turned and looked in the full body mirror for a whole five minutes. Itachi stood with her arms crossed over her chest, observing the work with a perfectionist's eye.

"Do my hair more often," Kisame said with finality, not a question. Itachi gave her one incredulous chuckle before reaching over to turn off the lights. The crawled into their beds, and Kisame experienced the feeling of being girly for the first time in a long time.

Relaxing and enjoying things as simple as braids in hair was something rare to her and Itachi, she knew. But she was determined to enjoy it more. She felt closer than ever to this little emotionless ball of pretty girl she got to call a partner.

* * *

Itachi was staring.

The girl thought she was sly, but Kisame wasn't as dull as she probably let on. She noticed out of the corner of her eyes when she felt Itachi's gaze on her.

And that feeling increased every day.

She wondered if it had something to do with the hair. Itachi messed with it almost every day after that day of their 'bonding'. She didn't even ask. The next day she'd taken the brush from her blue-gray partner and brushed her hair for her. Styled it for her. And she did that every night since then without a word. And Kisame really hadn't denied her, how could she when she enjoyed it?

Was she just looking at the job she did on her partner's hair? But what excuse was that to have her eyes planted on her all the time?

"Itachi-san?" she finally voiced one day, turning her head to the side. She had spied the girl staring, and caught her in the act. But her partner's gaze didn't leave, nor did she blush, or act bashful, or _anything_. Just moved her eyes to Kisame's.

Oh great, so she was gonna have to push it.

"What's up?" she asked, tilting her head.

Itachi perked a brow. Really?

"You've been staring," the statement is so blunt, she almost winces, "Is there something you want?"

A blink. Then the eyes are forward, down the road.

"No, nothing."

Kisame scoffs, but lets it drop. But she smiles when she notices what averted her partner's attention.

A big block in the road ahead is formed by a trade wagon. The driver is sitting up on the wagon, holding the reigns of two horses. Surrounding him are ninja, questioning him and asking to see the goods, and Kisame sees the man is jittery, nervous, and drunk.

"Ladies, would you give us just a moment?" a shinobi of Konohagakure holds up a hand to them, "We'll be with you in just a moment?"

"For what purpose?" Kisame asks, a grin sliding across her face.

"Due to a recent event in the main city, traffic to and from is being monitored closely. So if you'd please wait just one moment." And the man turns back to the drunk, and he's blubbering about having written rights to not get stopped and cross examined.

The partners exchange looks. Kisame reaches for Samehada, eagerly, but Itachi's hand is on her wrist.

"What?" Kisame asks her, raising a brow. "They'll know who we are."

"We can't be sure of that," Itachi's voice carries an undertone Kisame can't quite determine.

When Kisame drops her hand, Itachi's hand stays on her wrist, then moves down to claps their hands together, weaving fingers. The blue-gray woman gawks, but Itachi mouths a clear 'play along'. Their straw hats hide Kisame's blush.

They step aside to let the drunk finally ride by, not bothering with him since he's leaving the area. The three men turn their attention to the very interesting pair of women before them.

"You ladies carrying any goods?" one of them asks, and Kisame shakes her head no.

They're eyeing the cloaks suspiciously, and Itachi clutches her hand tightly, adjusting her posture.

"May we please carry on?" Itachi says in a gentle tone, one that sends weird shivers up Kisame's spine. "My love and I would like to return home quickly, or we'll miss our show."

Kisame eyes their faces. They have funny smiles on.

"Where do you two originate from?"

Itachi gives the name of a small border town. "But we work as shinobi for Konoha, and have been gone quite a while."

They seem to reluctantly buy it and then they're walking along. Kisame's sure her palm is sweaty.

Why oh why did Itachi have to put them through that torment? A pair of lesbians running around to go home and watch 'their show'. She could have just chopped them done and been done with it.

Itachi's hand slowly slid from hers, hooked at the pinkies for a moment before they were walking their usual distance apart. Itachi didn't look at her for the rest of the day.

* * *

Itachi was now twenty one. That made their partnership about eight years now, and Kisame couldn't believe they had been travelling together for so long.

She could admit, Itachi was a friend. An aggravating one at times, but a friend.

And the two were close. Did each other's hair and nails. No, Itachi didn't chat, but Kisame could tell when she listened, the vague times where she'd catch a smile playing Itachi's lips. And the two had a bond. They had saved each other's lives; they had bore the brunt of the other's pain and agony.

It was now Kisame noticed the stares again. Much more discreet now, so it took Kisame a while to realize, but she knew Itachi, and the stares were the same as before.

But at much different times.

When Kisame would fight, Itachi would stare. When she would work out, that stare. When she fussed over her hair, played with it, stare. When she _slept_, that stare.

As they sat in the forest, Itachi behind Kisame as usual, weaving her fingers delicately through Kisame's ever-growing hair, Kisame figured it'd be a good time to talk about it.

"You're doing it again," she said, in an inquisitive tone.

"Sorry. I'll tug less."

A laugh. "No, not that."

There was silence. Itachi's beautiful fingers brushed her shoulder.

"Staring." She says simply. No point beating around the bush.

And the silence continued. The only thing was, Kisame couldn't see her expression. So she decided to continue.

"I've caught you more than you know. Why?"

The hands pause. Fidget.

"I had a question for you, actually." Itachi's lovely voice is even as her fingers work again.

"Go for it."

Another pause.

"Are there ever times where you feel exposed?"

Kisame raises an eyebrow. "As in..?"

"Emotionally delicate," the pause fades. Her fingers work in Kisame's hair more slowly, "Like if someone looks at you they can just read into your soul without putting much effort into it."

She pondered this question with some amusement.

"Sure, I feel that way sometimes," she nods carefully, "I think everyone feels like that from time to time, though. Not really unusual."

"But, what about more than from time to time?"

Kisame leaned her head back to give Itachi a look. Her face was the usual stone, so she was serious. Turning back, she said, "Not really. For me it's only a moment, then it fades."

Suddenly, Itachi's undoing the braid she's been slowly working on. Undoes the pretty accessory she put in the top of Kisame's hair.

"What're you doing?" Kisame grins, but something feels uneasy about this.

"Stand up," Itachi demands. "Let me see how long your hair is."

A nervous laugh. Kisame stands up off the forest floor, letting her hair fall. It touches the back of her knees. She runs her fingers through it, gazing down at her partner.

Those eyes are alight. Sharp teeth bite a pale blue lip.

Pale ivory lips open, try to form words, but there's considerable hesitation. Itachi pats the ground in front of her instead, avoiding eye contact suddenly.

"Are you alright?" Kisame doesn't take the invitation to sit. "You're acting weird tonight."

"I'm fine," she insists, pats the leaves again. Kisame rolls her eyes, throws her long hair in Itachi's face as she sits.

"You're such a liar."

Itachi reaches up towards Kisame's forehead, begins to run her fingers through it, as though she's going to do her favorite, french braid, but her fists gather Kisame's hair and she yanks back. Kisame yelps, arching her back, her head pulled back. She has to brace back on a supportive arm to keep from falling back into her partner.

"What the hell are you doing?" she grinds out, wincing at the force, but it doesn't hurt much in all honesty.

"You say that you've had moments like that," Itachi's voice is calm, "where you've felt exposed. But how come I've never seen a single one of them?"

Kisame sneers, a low chuckle in her throat.

"I could say the same of you."

Itachi releases her hair, and Kisame sits upright again, touching the top of her head.

"Mean bitch."

Itachi finishes the braid quickly, and heads right to bed. Kisame lies awake, biting on her lip, gazing at Itachi has her chest rises and falls in the moonlight.

* * *

Feeling exposed is what Kisame felt right now.

She clutched her shirt together with a growl, watching their enemy fall to Itachi's blade.

And then the rage began when they were alone in a hotel room. A hotel room because Kisame refused to be anywhere else right now.

"Mother fucker," Kisame snarls, sitting there with a huge tear up the front of her shirt, trying to clip the only bra she owned back into place. But it was no use. Broken. Done. "You useless little piece of fabric, when I need you the most-"

"You can always buy a new one," Itachi's leaning against the wall behind her, arms folded across her chest.

"With whose money?" she snaps, letting go of the bra and gazing at herself in the mirror. You could see right up the middle of her chest, the bra still covering her breasts, but it wouldn't once she started moving. "This is my only one."

She was never a fan of those silly kunoichi undershirt things. They acted like sports bras. And for a woman with large breasts, those didn't _work_.

"We can try to fix it?" Itachi asks, more for the sake of keeping Kisame calm than anything.

"It won't fix. It's busted and a piece of the goddam clip is missing."

She stalks over to her bag, nearly tears the contents apart. "I can't go out like this! My tits hanging out all over the place! This shit _isn't right_-"

"It's not that big of a deal," Itachi sighs, shaking her head as she watches the contents of Kisame's bag fly across the room.

"It is, it really is."

Face down on the bed, she beats at her pillow to relieve some frustration.

There's silence for a while, before Kisame notices Itachi's pulling on her cloak.

"What're you doing?" she asks, with a growl.

"You can pay me back later," she says, tying back her hair. "I'll be back."

And then she's gone, before Kisame can even argue. In the end, she yanks the bra off, lying on the bed on her back in her ripped shirt. A heavy sigh escapes her.

She doesn't notice as she grows sleepy. The mission today was enough to wear her out, surely. Sleep catches her, and when Itachi comes back, Kisame is fast asleep, lying on her back on the bed.

She flinches, stirs when she feels a tickling on her chest. She opens an eye, stares at the ceiling. Slaps a hand to her chest, but finds nothing. She sits up, without realizing Itachi sits on the bed across from her.

When she does notice she clutches her chest defensively, her cheeks flashing light purple for a moment.

"When'd you get back?"

"Here."

An eye roll and toss later, Kisame is holding a new bra in her hands. It's a soft blue one, with no extra padding, and light lace around the edges.

The tag is gone, of course.

"How much do I owe you?" Kisame asks, getting up and going in to the bathroom, but doesn't close the door. Itachi's not in view of the doorway to see her change anyways.

There's silence, and Kisame pokes her head out the door. Itachi looks up from the floor.

"Hellooo? How much do I owe you?"

Itachi looks thoughtful. Then she decides, and a small, mean little smile comes to her lips.

"All you have to do is model it for me. Nothing more."

They stare. Kisame doesn't quite believe this.

"You're not serious?"

Itachi narrows her eyes. "Be lucky I'm not making you pay what I paid for it."

She backs into the bathroom, tossing off her shirt. "I guess that's a point."

She pulls on the bra, gazing at herself in the bathroom mirror. It's cozy, easy to move in, and very soft. It's also got an air of sex appeal to it, which she could do without, but hell, what can she say. She pokes her head out the door again, her hair swinging in line with her head.

Itachi crossed her legs, folds her hands in her lap, and looks expectant. Kisame laughs nervously, and steps out, holding up her arms.

"Not a bad choice, Itachi-san," she says, spins once in it.

A blush crosses the Uchiha's cheek. It makes Kisame blush a little, and she retreats into the bathroom to avoid showing it.

"No, wait," and then Itachi's in the bathroom with her. It makes Kisame realize Itachi's at breast level with her.

Itachi adjusts the straps carefully, and Kisame tries to wave her off, but it's impossible.

"It looks…" she says, as they both gaze in the mirror at Kisame. Itachi can't seem to finish the sentence.

"I look like a sex god," Kisame flashes a big fat cheesy grin to the mirror at her partner, and there's that eye roll.

"You look beautiful."

And something crossed Itachi's face when she saw Kisame's expression.

That _exposed_ expression that she hadn't shown ever before, even when they ran back to this hotel together. Even though she had felt it, she hadn't shown it. But now she couldn't _help_ but show it.

"Thanks, Itachi-san," Kisame says, allowing herself to smile a closed-mouth smile at her partner. She rubs her face to try to get rid of the blush.

With a satisfied air, Itachi exits the bathroom. She gazes at her blue self in the mirror, and replays the three words in her head over and over and over.

And suddenly, she's not as bad as she thought she was.

* * *

The bloodshed was what pulled her out of this little phase of hers. She'd been sensitive, cutesy, feeling off for just too long!

But after felling nearly twenty men in their latest mission, she felt the usual rush in her head, in the weapon in her hand, and felt the devilish grin take her face. Her blue bangs hung just above her eyes, her ponytail waved as she looked about the bodies.

And they weren't even to their next mission yet!

"I hope there's more of a challenge ahead. Taking out goons is nice and all, but it's more fun when they can actually _fight_," she told Itachi, who stood a few paces behind her, making her way over the bodies, taking care not to step on any.

Of course Itachi had nothing to say about it all. She didn't like it, but Kisame had made sure to be quick about these men, just for her sake.

They walked on, a pleasant silence between them as their footsteps echoed through this warehouse. The Uchiha wandered closer to her side than usual, but Kisame had no reason to question it. Her mind was filled with excitement for their upcoming fight with their target, but she was also taking care to keep her eyes open for anyone else. In this place, their approach could be foreseen and handled appropriately.

There was a grip on her arm. She turned to her partner.

Her finger pointed to one of the big windows, and a figure moved away. Kisame sneered.

They caught him just outside, in his attempt to run away. He was surrounded by a team of four, all Kumogakure ninja.

"Where do you think you're headed?" Kisame asks, with a mocking laugh.

There's no words from the other side as they lunge into battle. They prove to be stronger, as Kisame thought. A simple slice would not due to kill them.

Itachi was away from her side now, and they juggled the ninja, dodging and avoiding, getting in hits when the time was perfect. Itachi was making much quicker work of these men than Kisame was. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw the spark of lightning, and her body was moving before she realized what was happening.

The lightning-lit hand crashed down on Samehada, sending a harsh shock through Kisame's body. She cried out, barely audible under the cracking and popping noises of the lightning. She felt Itachi right behind her, saw wide eyes, but then she was moving into action, and their assailant was dead on the ground, with her sword jabbed through his forehead protector. _Through_ it.

Kisame batted away the others, with a harsh cough. Her limbs felt like jello, her steps heavy, and twisting to meet her opponents was hard. In the end, she cast her water prison jutsu on them, summoning sharks to swim with them and feast on them.

Itachi had already dealt with the target – she held him by the hair on his knees, her sharingan spinning and his eyes empty as she probed the depths of his mind. Once done, she tossed him to the ground, finishing him off with a simple cut.

"Ah, shit," Kisame stumbled, falling against a tree and she stayed there, panting, "I fucking hate lightning style."

"You didn't have to take that blow," Itachi says in a harsh tone, wiping at her right eye, bloody.

"Shut up," Kisame hiccupped, swearing smoke came up from her lungs, "You're the only one that could get the information from him. If he had hit you, you would be three planets away from here mentally and I wouldn't be able to care for you. Then I'd have to haul both your ass and his ass to base. And I wasn't prepared to do that."

"And what about you?" Itachi came close, brushing Kisame's bangs from her face. "You're not in much better condition."

"I can handle it. Now check if those fuckers are dead," Kisame waved her hand at the blood-filled water prisons. "I just need a minute."

Reluctantly, the Uchiha obeyed. Gazing into each prison, she cooed softly at the sharks as they stuck their noses up to the hand that she rested on each prison. Kisame finally let herself drop to a sitting position, fumbling inside her cloak until she found a small canteen and brought it to her lips, drinking down all of the contents.

The water would help her out. Samehada was hissing on the ground where she had left it, obviously delirious as well from the shock. It pushed it's big tongue through the bandages, wiggling it around in it's daze, panting like a dog.

Itachi's hand was on her cheek. Kisame snaps out of her own daze.

"They're dead," she says, takes the canteen from Kisame's hand.

Kisame signs, and the jutsu falls, splashing the ground with blood. The sharks wriggle there for a moment before they, too, disappear.

Itachi has disappeared, but reappears just as quickly, dumping water into her hand where she holds onto her sleeve. She soaks her sleeve, and wipes her partner's face with it. The cool sensation made her gasp and sigh, with pure relief.

"Don't do that again," Itachi demands, the same harsh tone. Kisame laughs at her, a little lazily.

"You're so stubborn. Like you didn't listen when I tried to speak your logical language," she let her golden eyes roll, "I'll do it as much as I like."

"I don't like seeing you hurt like this."

"Oh god, cry me a river," Kisame waves her hand, "This is what we _do_, Itachi-san."

Her tone received a mean glare.

"I don't care if it's what we _do_, Kisame. Don't step in the way like that again."

"I'm not listening." Kisame clicks her tongue at her partner, letting her continue to wipe her face.

"You're so stubborn," Itachi growls, pressing the canteen to Kisame's lips. Kisame drinks the half bottle's worth down, already feeling much better.

"You're worse. Way worse. If I have anytime I needa be stubborn, it's right now." Kisame points a finger, "Sometimes I think you like to argue."

"No," Itachi hisses, "What I _don't_ like is seeing you taking pain for me like you did."

Kisame stands up slowly, shaking her head. Her ponytail falls over her shoulder.

"Let it drop. I'll do as I please."

She picks up Samehada slowly, rewrapping the bandages over the end. She threw the strap over her shoulder, securing her weapon to her back.

When she turned around, Itachi was glaring deeply at her, sharingan – no – _Mangekyou_ sharingan alight. Kisame narrowed her eyes.

"You're pretty determined today." A chuckle. "What if I told you I _like_ being hurt?"

"I don't think you really do."

Their eyes are glued together. Kisame brushes her hair back over her shoulder.

"What's the big deal? I'm fine now, Itachi-san."

The glare got worse.

"You don't get it. You stepped in the way of an attack that was meant for me. I could have avoided it, and yet you were there to take it. You got hurt for nothing."

Kisame cringed, baring teeth. "You sure are a bitch when you decide to open your mouth. I can feel the thankful air wafting from you." Ah, sarcasm. How good it tasted in her mouth. "From my point of view, you looked pretty _fucked _in that situation."

The tension between them was rising very slowly. She didn't remember ever getting in a biff like this with her partner before.

"Don't try to take care of me," Itachi said, and Kisame laughed hard.

"What are you trying to do right now then?" Kisame prodded Itachi's chest with a finger, which she smacked away very promptly.

"Get out of my face," she turns to go, but this prompts rage in Kisame. She snatches Itachi's arm in her grip, whips her around, so they're nose to nose.

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do," Kisame grinds out, "I put up with it out of respect for you, but when you wanna act like an ungrateful child that's when I feel like smashing your face in."

"Would you really?" Itachi raises an amused eyebrow, her eyes glowing in the light of the night. She leans even closer, if that was possible. Her voice is a venomous hiss. "Go ahead, hit me. I'll throw you to hell and back in less than a second."

"You think I'm afraid of your cute little genjutsu? I'm not afraid of hell."

She pushes Itachi back, releasing her arm. She tosses her head to the side to gaze at her smaller partner. "You're just a little girl. I'm not afraid of you now, nor ever. Because _you wouldn't do it_."

"If you raise your hand to me, I'll kill you," Itachi grinds, her face contorted in anger.

"Oh, pardon me," Kisame holds up her hands, with a stupid chuckle, "I'll make sure not to abuse you anytime soon Itachi. I'll just keep stepping in the way of those blows for you, no problem-o. You ungrateful bitch."

Kisame sweeps her cloak as she turns and walks in the direction of home. She waves a hand back at her partner. "Have fun with the countless wounds you'll have if I didn't step in your goddam way. But little miss independent Uchiha doesn't care, because she doesn't like it when people_ care_."

This time, for the first time in a very long time, Itachi was not walking by her. Behind her, by her side, ahead of her. In all honesty, Kisame was thankful for this. She felt like a minute longer and she would have erupted.

And she did just that that night in the forest. Took out her anger on an unsuspecting forest, her rage built from her mounting thoughts. She didn't want to see Itachi again for a long time. Jump in the way of a blow and what does she get? A stubborn little girl threatening her with Hellfire.

Many destroyed trees later, Kisame rests on the forest floor. Samehada, her bag, and her cloak rest a little ways away. She picks splinters out of her knuckles with her teeth, and licks the wounds like a careless dog. The blood tastes thick, but it satiates some odd thing inside of her. Once all the chunks of wood are gone from her bruised and bloody hands, her sore fingers play with her long, blue hair.

She was good at attracting attention, but it didn't worry her. Nobody would come to spy on a very angry monster woman destroying a section of the forest.

But what did she care? Fine, she simply wouldn't take hits for her partner. And see how she liked it.

But she hadn't even thought about it before jumping in the way. She would probably do it again. But _why_?

So lost in thought, eyes closed, she didn't even realize the cooling sensation on her hands. The touch of someone else. Perhaps she was too used to Itachi to realize when she was there when she wasn't supposed to be.

She'd just keep jumping in the way of shit for this girl, wouldn't she? They were friends, she knew, but even then her partner was supposed to be disposable.

Finally noticing the touch, she dared not open her eyes. No, she couldn't feign sleep, but she could feign not noticing the girl as she healed Kisame's hands. Holding her big, rough, calloused, blue hands with her smaller, long-fingered, ivory hands. Gentle hands.

Storm clouds roared overhead. As rain began to fall, she was still afraid to open her eyes, for some reason. Like this moment was a moment she didn't want broken. That touch of her partners, it would get her killed, surely. That sweet and gentle touch that was irresistible somehow.

And she didn't want to start more arguing. She didn't want to be scolded for going and getting herself injured. She just wanted Itachi's hands on hers, and this rain that tickled their face to stay.

But she relented. This rain and cold would make them both sick.

She lifted her chin, opened her eyes. Itachi knelt in front of her, cupping her hands in her own, a green glow emanating from them. The eyes were not red, but their usual onyx, that reflected the blue skin and green chakra.

And of course they stared. They always stared at each other, it was just a thing they did. Itachi gripped her partner's hands a little more tightly, letting the rain fall on their heads. Their bangs stuck to their faces, and finally Itachi broke the staring by closing her eyes. Kisame sighed.

"We should go," the Uchiha mouthed, but her words were blocked by the dash of desperate lightning in the sky.

Kisame could only nod. But then neither woman moved. Even after Kisame's hands were healed, Itachi didn't pull hers away like she normally would. No, she held the hands tightly in hers.

"I'm not ungrateful to you," Itachi says, in a slow yet gentle voice.

Kisame blinks against the rain. "You're good at faking it then."

Itachi shook her head, desperately. "You said I don't like it when people care. But no, that's wrong."

Kisame's hands were brought to soft, ivory lips. They pressed against them in a very small kiss, searing heat against rain-numbed skin.

"I care about you," she said behind the hands, her eyes remaining closed, "And I don't care what you think you have to do. I'd rather endure the physical pain than endure the emotional, seeing you hurt in my stead."

The hands are moved, pressed against Itachi's chest. She holds Kisame's hands over her rapidly beating heart. It makes Kisame's heart jump up into her throat.

"I care about you," she says again, her head dropping slightly, her wet bangs hiding her face from view. Her thudding heart pounds against Kisame's hands.

"Don't you get it?" Kisame allows herself a small, closed mouth smile, "I do it because I care about you too."

She didn't know what was in her mind. But the touch of Itachi's skin was so warm against this cold she felt. She leaned forward, rested her forehead on her partner's shoulder. Their cheeks pressed together.

"And I can't stop that. I don't think about it, I just _do_ it."

Lightning crashes, the rain heavier now, falling in plump droplets on the tops of their heads, down Kisame's back. Kisame feels Itachi's heartbeat, then her own, and is perplexed to realize their hearts match in pace.

They stay like this a while, taking in the warmth of the other as the rain drums the ground around them, as the trees rustle from the force. A hand leaves Kisame's and the arm wraps about her shoulders, and then the other. Kisame trails her hands down, slowly, almost unsteadily, down between her partner's breasts, then weaves them around her stomach, pulling the woman closer into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," Itachi whispers in her ear, "I shouldn't have gotten worked up."

"Shush," Kisame demands, giving Itachi a tight squeeze. "What happened is done."

Itachi's heavy breathing on her shoulder sent rushes of pleasure through her. The way her fingers, as always, found their way to her hair, stroking it gently, made Kisame want to pull her in tighter, never let her go.

But what were they doing? A moment of friendship, Kisame dully convinced herself. She didn't like to lie to herself, but it was the only way to keep calm.

Eventually, she stood, pulling Itachi up with her. They still held each other loosely, Kisame's eyes dropping to meet her partner's.

But there is something amazing in those onyx eyes. A hand is on her chest, and she knows Itachi can feel her quick-beating heart now. Kisame gazed away, bashful for the first time in years.

"Kisame."

It was her name carried on barely a breath. She looked back, and that look had intensified. She knew that look, but she had never seen it directed at her.

And then Itachi was pulling her down, a firm hand on the back of Kisame's neck. Submitting, she lowered, nose to nose with her partner as they had been before. But now was different. Itachi's eyes were narrow, that hand gripped Kisame's chest, and she leaned in to close their distance.

Their lips barely brushed, their hot breathing melded, and just as Kisame leaned in the rest of the way to scare away the space between them, a loud crash echoed behind Itachi, causing them both to nearly jump from their skins.

Kisame looked up, Itachi turned around.

Lightning had struck a tree, and it was now ablaze, even against the heavy rain. The fire blazed and began to jump with the heavy wind, the thunder pounding in their ears.

Kisame grabbed Itachi's wrist from her chest and ran, grabbing up her items and Samehada, and taking off down the road.

The rain pounded against her face, and yet she couldn't stop running. Her heart felt like it would fly out of her chest. Her lips stung with the impression Itachi's lips had only just made. Itachi wrenched her wrist from Kisame's grip, and instead wrapped their hands in a weave. She could deal with it, just this once.

The inn keeper made them stand in the entranceway as they ordered their room. It was a nice inn for once, and it was obvious these two were completely soaked through. They shivered against the heat of the building, gasping for breath. And Itachi wouldn't let go of her hand.

Once they weren't too much of a hazard they were allowed on, taking the key to their room and some extra towels. They went up stairs, got in their room, and Itachi's hand finally left hers.

Kisame hung their cloaks. They both stripped down to undergarments, and even those were soaked through. Itachi went into the bathroom first, changed into all new clothes (even undergarments), and Kisame changed in the middle of their room, abandoning the blue bra completely, wrapping herself in a long-sleeve shirt and pulling on a new pair of underwear and soft pants.

They set their clothing up to dry in the shower, and they sat together on Kisame's bed, Itachi's head wrapped in a towel as she toweled through Kisame's locks.

She was finally able to relax as the shivering died down, the small heater in their room cranked up to full blast.

Realizations exploded through her mind. Her pressed a finger to her lips, felt that sting still there.

Should they talk about this? Pretend it never happened? Live with it and move on?

They had been half a second away from a true kiss. _A kiss_.

A towel was over her eyes as Itachi rubbed it vigorously into her head. Kisame let her eyes close, careful to feel each of Itachi's movements as she toweled through her hair, brushed it, then toweled again.

She wanted to say something, but words wouldn't leave her mouth. Each time Itachi accidentally brushed her neck or shoulder or back, Kisame shivered. Itachi's hot skin was just too much.

Itachi hung the soaked towels up, suggesting Kisame leave her hair down tonight so it could dry. She didn't argue it as she laid herself down in bed, gazing over at the window. Lightning flickered, thunder rumbled their room a minute later.

Without any words, Itachi turned out their lights. She pulled the towel from her own hair and tossed it to the side, easing into her own bed.

As time went on, the blue-gray skinned woman found that sleep would simply not come. She tossed and turned until she finally settled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, which flickered with dancing shadows and the threatening shock of the thing that had stung so much earlier. She reached up her hand to touch her lips again. The sting was gone, and loneliness wrapped around her chest and squeezed her so tightly she could barely move.

She side glanced at her partner, who lay still in bed, but her breathing told her she wasn't asleep either.

The temptation to crawl into bed with her almost made her do so, it was so strong, but she knew she couldn't. They were getting in over their heads.

Kisame stood from her bed, locked herself in the bathroom. She didn't turn on the light, but sat in the darkness, feeling at her face. She felt over her eyelids, her gills, her slightly bigger nose, her strong jaw, her chapped lips, her razor-like teeth. She wondered what had made Itachi even want to get close to her.

To call her beautiful, when she was nothing more than a sea monster who had managed to grow legs.

Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves. She ran a hand through it feverishly, feeling something deep in her chest ache. It made her want to yell out in an agony she had never experienced before.

She shook her head violently. What the hell was she doing?

There was soft tapping on the door. There were no words. Kisame tried to ignore it, but it tapped again. She stood slowly from the tile floor, and paused at the door.

"What is it?" she said, in as much of her usual voice as she could manage.

"Are you alright?" her partner asks, and the words disobey her stoic, rock-hard tone.

"I'm fine," she says, with a nod only she can see. "Go back to sleep, Itachi-san."

"I can't."

A sigh. "Do we need to talk?"

Silence. Kisame carefully unlocked the door and opened it. She could see Itachi's faint outline.

A hand found hers. Itachi led her to sit on the edge of her own bed, the window to their backs.

Itachi laced their fingers, and both women's eyes were on this small thing, these two hands wrapped together, taking in the warmth of the other.

"How much do you care?" Itachi asks, a small squeeze of her hand.

"I don't know," Kisame admits, honestly, "I didn't think something like this would happen, in all honesty."

A small nod from the Uchiha. Silence passes between them as Kisame thinks this over.

"This could spell a lot of trouble for us," Kisame says, trying to stay as focused on reality as possible. "Maybe right now it's not that big a deal, but if we carry on…"

Another nod. Kisame bites her lip.

"What if I fall in love with you and lose you?" Kisame says, but almost not to Itachi. More to herself. "I don't know what would happen. What I'd do."

Itachi doesn't argue it. Kisame sighs deeply, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her free hand.

"But what if you already are?"

Itachi's voice is soft and gentle, full emotion exposed in a way Kisame's never heard it. She takes these words in, but doesn't know what to do with them. Listen to them? Agree with them? Disagree?

"Staying apart at this point will be just the same as losing each other," Itachi's mind is at work, and she's leaned in closer to Kisame's ear. Her lips brush against it and Kisame shivers very noticeably.

"No, it isn't," she shakes her head, "I still have you by my side. As long as you're safe, I'm fine."

She turns to look the other woman in the eyes.

"For your sake and my own, we can't do this."

Acceptance is in her onyx eyes, but defiance and sadness lie behind it.

"One kiss," she pleads, softly. "Just one."

Kisame knows she wants it. There's no point in denying it.

"Only one," the blue-gray woman reaffirms, squeezing Itachi's hand, "Then tomorrow, things will go back to normal."

"Yes." Itachi says in compliance and her hand ghosts over Kisame's cheek.

Kisame leans down, touches their foreheads. Then their noses. Kisame's heart begins to pound in her ears again, as she reaches up and takes Itachi's chin in her hand. They meet eyes for a moment, stare, before Itachi has leaned up and their lips are pressed firmly together.

The Uchiha's lips are searing on hers, and she moans lightly into their kiss. The two press closer together, and their locked hands unlace. Itachi pulls Kisame down by the back of her head. Kisame wraps her arm about her partner's waist, pulling their bodies closer. Their chests mash, and their lips move against each other. Itachi's mouth opens, and she takes Kisame's bottom lip with hungry teeth, then releases it as soon as she grabbed it. This excites the blue-gray woman, pushing her to dive into Itachi's open mouth.

Tongue meets tongue, and this time Itachi's moan is in between them, as they start to tangle slowly. But Kisame wants in closer, needs more of her partner. She presses Itachi down onto the bed, a hand on her chest keeping her down. Kisame presses down on her, and strives for a deeper connection with this girl. Tongues dance and explore, lips are wet, gentle kisses pressed together.

Finally they part, gasping hollowly for breath they'd rather deny. They gaze at each other, and Kisame can't help but smile down at her, and presses a tiny, final kiss to Itachi's lips, before she is standing. Her cheeks glow purple, and she finds her way back into bed. Her back is turned to Itachi, but she knows Itachi won't move from that spot. Refuses to, for a long time. And by the time she moves, sleep has taken Kisame's mind away from her.

* * *

The air between them couldn't be any more different.

They can't touch without Kisame getting shivers. When they fight together, Kisame's eyes are always on her partner. She strives to keep her safe, and Itachi is doing just the same.

In the moments they're alone, the tension builds. Loneliness grips Kisame, and Itachi gazes into her soul as though she knows. But they must remain apart. Kisame can't risk getting attached to something she could easily lose.

When they return from a mission one day, they find Deidara standing along the stairs, looking a little more than disturbed. Both women eye him, and he finally looks up, a little startled.

"How long have you two been there, hnn?" he asks, standing up straighter.

"Not long," Kisame snorts, "The hell you doing?"

Deidara huffs. Itachi looks around for the one thing Deidara is never without, and she discovers the problem before he even says it.

"Sasori," Itachi says, in a solemn tone. Deidara nods, his brow pinching.

"They already assigned me a new partner, and he's the most annoying little shit I've ever met, hnn," he snarls.

"What happened to Sasori?" Kisame probes, leaning on the railing on the other side of Deidara. Itachi stands close by her, but doesn't seem to relax.

"Retrieving the one-tailed beast, we were intercepted by the nine-tails and a team of his," Deidara spits, disgust molding his face, "They slaughtered him. I only just escaped, only because I was more careful."

"Hope he finds the rest her deserves," Kisame says lightly. Deidara still looked huffy.

"Hnn. But it's unsettling," Deidara shakes his head, "He was taken out by his former mentor and a girl from Konoha. His mentor was a prune, and the girl was probably no more than chuunin level."

Kisame tilts her head. "Sounds like he underestimated them."

"Well, what would you expect, hnn?" Deidara raised his arms in a shrug, "I know I would have. A chuunin and a little old lady. And the chuunin was a medical nin of all things."

Kisame couldn't blame Deidara. A pair like that would be easy to underestimate. But it was the rule – if you underestimated an opponent, death would follow quickly.

Deidara moved on after a few more empty words, grumbling to himself. They settled into their own quarters, when Kisame felt a tight grip on her waist, and Itachi's body pressed against her back.

"Never underestimate anyone," they said together, and Kisame put a hand over Itachi's.

"It'll be okay," Kisame said softly, giving Itachi's arm a reassuring pat and squeeze and added in a grin. "I'm not Sasori, and neither are you."

With a nod, Itachi moved away.

Time went on peacefully, as they spent the next few days in silence, sealing the one tailed beast Deidara had barely managed to procure. Every time Kisame gazed at Itachi, her vermillion eyes would be staring across the line at her partner. They'd exchange soft looks, and then return to the task at hand.

Tobi was their newest member, and Kisame delighted in their joking back and forth. It was nice to have someone to blab to about stupid things for once. A lighthearted member for sure. Stupid, but nice.

More time passed, and things were slowly becoming the norm. The lonely pit that settled in Kisame's stomach at night became more and more bearable as time went on. Things became less awkward.

That night, there was considerable cursing and screaming in the depths of the base. Kisame, curious, went to check as Itachi lounged about in their room, too tired to bother.

It was Hidan, swinging his arm around, scythe hanging from his back and flying every which way. He was coated in a layer of mud and dirt.

"Those motherfuckers took Kakuzu!" he yelled to Konan, who stood with palms out toward him, and a distressed look on her face. "Slaughtered him and took him and now he's fucking gone. Stupid money whoring bitch deserved it, now he gets to get probed for the rest of his fucking existence!"

On and on he went. Swallowing hard, Kisame returned to the quarters she and Itachi shared. Itachi asked about the yelling, but Kisame seemed not to hear her, heading right into bed.

Later into the night, Kisame felt a hand on her arm. Both had been restless.

"Tell me," Itachi demanded, and Kisame rolled over.

"Kakuzu's dead and gone," she said with a snort, but it wasn't funny. They exchanged a look, before Kisame turned back over.

There were hands on her back. Lips on her arm and shoulder. Kisame squeezed her eyes closed tightly.

"Itachi-san, we _can't_-"

"I won't die without being by you," Itachi hisses, grabbing Kisame's arm and yanking her onto her back to look at her. "I can't do this anymore."

Kisame shook her head. "You're not gonna die-"

"You don't get it," she snarled, her eyes alight in anger, "Have you been ignorant of my brother's movement?"

Kisame sat upright in her bed. Itachi bit her lip.

"Your brother." Kisame says, plays the thought over in her head, "What about your _brother_?"

Itachi drops her chin. There's the blue-gray woman's rage in the air now.

"You make it sound like he's gonna kill you," she says, a snarl ripping through her voice.

Eyes meet, but Kisame can't stand it. Looking at Itachi's face, she knows what's going on.

"All this time-"

"Kisame, I didn't-"

"No! _Shut up!"_

Slamming. Kisame's heavy footsteps pummel the floor, but Itachi presses on behind her, unafraid. She tries to grab Kisame's arm, but the enraged woman who resembles a shark more and more each moment hits it away cruelly.

"You're just gonna let him kill you, is that it?" Kisame laughs at her, but again, there's nothing funny about it. It resembles the laugh of a hyena.

"No, that's not-"

"_Don't fucking lie!"_

She grabs the front of Itachi's shirt, eye to eye.

"I've had this planned for years," Itachi says ruefully, grabbing Kisame's hand and digging her fingernails into it, "I can't change it."

Afraid to actually hurt her, Kisame tossed Itachi away from her. Itachi's back meets a wall, and she watches as Kisame grabs up her cloak and throws it over her shoulders.

"Kisame, please-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" her voice snarls and echoes against the quiet night. "You've had me hanging onto you this whole time and here you are telling me it was never gonna work out anyways, you weren't afraid of dying, you _planned_ your death. And you expect me to just let that little prick at you?"

She grabs Samehada, who's gurgling with anticipation for the killing it can sense is coming. But the Uchiha has moved in front of the doorway, and braced herself against it.

"Don't go," she demands, no, nearly_ pleads_.

"You have a fucking minute to tell me what the hell is going on in your head," Kisame snarls in her face, gripping the handle of her sword, "Because I'm at the point where chopping you up would save me a lot of pain, Itachi."

A sharp intake of breath.

"I didn't know I'd get to feel this way about you," Itachi's eyes show Kisame she's genuine, "I didn't want to feel that way, obviously. I'm no fool, we don't need it. Didn't need it. But it happened, and I had planned all of this before I even joined Akatsuki."

"But why give up on life?" the blue-gray woman probes, "You can change it at any fucking time."

"No," Itachi shakes her head, "There will come a day when Sasuke will become more powerful than me. And he will kill me, he'll do anything to do so, because of the things I've put in his head."

Silence. Kisame's rage makes her shake.

"That day is right around the corner," she continues, and looks like she wants to move but doesn't. "Sasuke is my brother. I love him. I can't kill him, or let anybody else kill him."

Kisame sneers, shakes her head. Her ponytail flies with her rage.

"So, if I tried to defend you by killing him, you'd hate me then?"

Itachi's eyes harden in response, but she says nothing.

"What if I'm a selfish monster and want you all to myself?" Kisame's growling, teeth bared, "What if I don't care if you hate me, as long as you live on?"

Itachi shakes her head, her tone solidifying, "I wouldn't want to live."

Something finally breaks inside Kisame. She hauls Itachi out of the doorway, flinging her across the floor. She rebounds easily, but her partner's out the door. The Uchiha watches from the doorway, and figures giving chase would be useless. Only increase the rage that needed to burst in her partner anyways.

Beady, golden eyes scan the deserted lands. Tears? No, no tears. She hadn't cried in years. There was no reason to cry. Things would happen as they happened. But that didn't prevent her from slaughtering anyone she came across that night.

* * *

Three days later, Kisame was staring at the door to their quarters. She pressed her hand to it, something turning in her stomach.

But she couldn't open it. Not yet. She had spent the last few days pushing her partner from her mind, finding any excuse in the world to not love the woman anymore. In the end it was pretty hopeless, but she felt better about herself. That time apart made her realize that she could live life without Itachi. A lonely life, but still a life.

She reached down and turned the doorknob, slowly walking inside. She glanced around, but her partner wasn't in sight.

Resting Samehada on the wall, her coat on a hanger, and her bag by the door, she explored about the place for her partner but to no avail.

With a heavy sigh, she sat on her bed, pulling her forehead protector and shoes off. She tossed herself back to lie down but yelped when something sharp found her back. She turned and looked for the attacker, and picked it up very carefully.

She wasn't quite sure of what to think. Her mind stopped for a moment. She hadn't known Itachi to be this way at all.

She carefully held a rose in her hand, a vibrant pink color, with long thorns. The leaves glowed with the essence of green life. The petals were delicate, and she felt glad she didn't crush it when she had laid down.

A small note was tied around its stem. She took it off very carefully, afraid to tear it on the thorns, and opened it.

In Itachi's writing, a swirly, pretty cursive, were the words "Forgive Me".

Warmth flooded the blue-gray woman's chest. She clutched the flower in her hands, not minding the sharp prickling sensation the thorns gave her. She laid herself down slowly on the bed, holding it close to her chest, and was unable to keep the smile from her lips.

So this is what love was? What a horrible thing, and yet so pleasant at the same time. The way the loneliness drained away from her soul, the cold chased away by the warm tingle of raw emotion.

Could she forgive Itachi for this? Not now, certainly not. But if she pushed her own wants aside and realized the life Itachi led, she could, eventually.

She listened closely, but made sure to keep her eyes closed. Soft footsteps were on the carpet outside, and the door creaked shut very slowly. Her heart leaped into her throat.

And all at once she didn't want to spend the time until Itachi's death separated. The padding footsteps came into the room, and there were two small clicks as her partner closed, and locked, their door.

"Trying to sneak up on me?" Kisame smiled, keeping her eyes closed. There was weight on the bed next to her, and she felt soft lips on her shoulder.

"Plan foiled," Itachi said, in a gentle tone, pressing more kisses up Kisame's shoulder to her neck, slowly and with an air of delicacy. Kisame's fingers found Itachi's hair, and she swept her hand through her partner's coal black locks, sending the hair tie flying into a place unreachable to them at this time.

"I missed you," she mouths against Kisame's discolored skin. She rolls onto her back and her partner climbs on top of her, resting her lithe weight on powerful hips.

Their lips met, and Kisame knew this encounter would be different. She felt it in the way Itachi moved, the slow, calculated way she touched and kissed her lover. The hands that traced circles over her muscled belly, then moved slowly up to the soft skin of her breasts beneath her shirt.

Kisame drew her hands slowly down Itachi's back, moving them to her sides to feel the curves beneath her loose shirt. Her arms were long enough so that she could even grab Itachi's backend, earning her a bite on the lip and an excited chuckle.

Clothes are peeled from hot skin. They fall to the floor as Kisame turns the tables, pressing Itachi into the expanse of the mattress, the sea of sheets. She hovers over the girl, their panting mingling. They stare deep into each other's eyes, before their lips and bodies meet.

The rose falls to the floor atop the pile of clothing, soft sighs and throaty moans echoing in their room.

* * *

An ivory colored hand reached over, touching the tip of a candle and igniting it. It glowed in the dark of the room, the flickering easing the silence.

The second ivory hand played in the waves of ocean blue hair. It twisted the strands between skinny digits, tugging gently on it, earning small chuckles from a voice behind razor teeth.

Itachi pressed her forehead against her lover's, and their lips brushed.

Kisame clutched the Uchiha's smaller body to her own. Legs wrapped around legs. Chests pressed together, a hand massaged a hipbone. Black hair tangled with blue.

"I forgive you," Kisame breaks their silence, reaching up to stroke Itachi's pale cheek.

A pretty little smile, meant only for Kisame.

"Thank you," Itachi's voice is a little hoarse. She probably hadn't used her voice as much as she had in years. "If I could change it now, I-"

"Don't say things like that," Kisame shakes her head, "It's important to focus on what we have now."

This received a chuckle. It was like their roles had flipped for a moment.

They clutch each other desperately, press sweet, weak kisses to cooling skin. The words that float between them cannot be vocalized.

Weeks later, they stand facing each other. Kisame has to breathe slowly to keep her heart rate down.

"Do me a favor," she says, reaching forward to touch Kisame's arm, "keep his team from interfering."

"If it's what you want," she nods, keeping her face as stony as possible. She doesn't want to believe that this is the last time they will see each other, after a partnership of eight full years.

"And, if anyone else comes along, deter them as well…" Kisame can tell Itachi's speak simply to try to fill a void. Make up for all the talking she didn't do over this time.

A simple nod. A deep breath.

A breeze floated by them, carrying the scent of the forest. Kisame couldn't meet Itachi's gaze.

She stared at a beetle as it walked the ground near their feet.

Itachi was moving, but Kisame didn't look away from the ground. And then Itachi was pressed to her front, her hands reaching up around her neck. She felt slightly warm metal on her neck.

"What are you doing?" Kisame asked as Itachi pulled away. She felt her neck and blinked.

That necklace Itachi had worn every day since she had first met her. Staring down at that thirteen year old girl, she remembered the necklace glinting in the very dull light. The small metal circles on a simple chain. She never took it off.

Now at twenty one, looking at the girl without it on solidified the fact that she wouldn't be returning. Kisame clutched the necklace, her breathing halted.

"I hope that after today we won't see each other for a long, long time," Itachi offered a small smile. A funny little death joke. Kisame shook her head.

"I can't guarantee anything of that sort." She offered a grin, but it was forced, hard. Her guts twisted uneasily within her.

Her eyes found the beetle again, but it grew blurry. She closed her mouth, bit hard into her lip, but that didn't keep her eyes from growing cloudy with tears that had been buried under touch, blue skin for years.

Stony faced, she could manage that. But her cover was blown when a tear fell. It stung a path down her cheek and made her cheeks ignite with embarrassment. Itachi's finger was there to swipe it away, gently.

And then her lips were there. Kisame knew this was their last kiss. That same thing that had snapped all those weeks ago snapped again inside her. She clutched Itachi close in a desperate kiss, her hands feeling up every bit of her, afraid to forget the feel of their skin together. Afraid she'd forget the touch and taste and smell and sight.

She wanted to talk her out of it. She wanted to find Sasuke and shred him to bits and make him _suffer_ for doing this to both of them.

Itachi's hands were on her face, and they were staring into each other's eyes for the last time.

"Goodbye," Itachi mouthed, pressing her lips to Kisame's forehead. Another tear escaped her eye, but Itachi didn't wipe it away. Her soft skin left Kisame's face. This was the last time she'd hear the soft padding of Itachi's footsteps.

And then she was gone, into the desecrated temple.

A rush of things hit Kisame. Rage, sadness, loneliness. She fumbled with the necklace in her fingers.

Deep breathing, and she was off. The tears would be postponed. Instead, she'd release her rage on that team of Sasuke's.

She poised herself, planted an evil grin upon her lips, but for once there was no joy behind it. No bloodlust. But grief, bubbling beneath her skin.

She offered Sasuke a stony face. The kid that stood there, looking so cocky. She wanted to rip his head clear off of his shoulders.

"Your team goes no farther," her voice is even, amazingly even for the mental state she finds herself in. "Your sister is waiting. Go."

The three tagalongs look startled, but Sasuke says nothing and simply goes on without him.

The look they exchange in that time is odd. Kisame conveys all of her hatred into one, terrifying, pointed look. And she sees something spark behind Sasuke's glassy eyes.

But then, before this team, she found that the rage she had wanted to take out of them wouldn't come.

She tried to force it, but it just wouldn't come out of her. It was welling up in her chest but nothing she could do would ease it right now.

The fight lasted a while, but she had held them off long enough. She subdued them before she made her leave.

In the forest she sat, in a single place, for many hours. Their memories sparked emotions, one at a time. Their nights together, their fights. That day in the rain. That kiss in the dark. That little girl who stood before her without fear, as though she knew fate would not let her be ended by the demon that stood before her.

Her hair. Her god dammed hair. She tugged at it, squeezing her eyes closed. They opened again when she sensed movement, and a black and white head poked its way up out of the ground.

Followed by a huge plant, Zetsu slowly rose from the ground, and stopped at about waist level. She stared at him for a long time, with an empty look in her eyes.

"Your partner has been declared dead." His black side says, and then both sides stay quiet, watching her.

Kisame doesn't blink. Zetsu repeats the sentence, trying to force it into her head.

"Uchiha Itachi is dead."

A slow nod. "I already knew."

He disappears quickly, as though sensing the rising storm in the monster-like woman.

Her emotions erupt all at once. Her rage blinds her, if the tears didn't do that already.

When she awakes the next morning, she's curled up in the forest, a cherry blossom tree above her head and a pond to her right.

She stands and cleans herself off. Wipes blood from her fingers, and she doesn't remember how it got there.

A look up to the clear blue sky. She mouths, but words don't come up. She coughs, clearing her throat.

"I'll see you soon."

The wind sweeps her blue hair along behind her as she makes her way back to headquarters, a void left at her side, by the partner she knows will never return.


End file.
